


Don't Get Lucky

by lostwithoutmyanchor (mysourwolf)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anal Sex, Background OC death, Background Sex Worker Peter Hale, Blow Jobs, Bottom Peter Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, First Time, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Violence, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 12:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11646516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysourwolf/pseuds/lostwithoutmyanchor
Summary: 5 times Stiles tries to get laid and 1 time he does.Or the one where Stiles tries to lose his virginity and Peter decides to help. He used to do this for a living after all.





	Don't Get Lucky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Twisted_Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/gifts), [AteanaLenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteanaLenn/gifts).



> Not beta-read
> 
> Peter's sex work is only background mention.  
> There is no Peter/Others and only minor Stiles/Others.
> 
> Thank you so much, Twisted_Mind for encouraging me to write this ♥  
> And thank you, thank you OceanAndSpace for helping me with the ending ♥

1.

Stiles stomped into the loft, letting the rolling door crash back into the lock, while he was huffing and puffing.

“Really? Really?” he shouted, nearly screeching. “I told you guys, I had a date! I asked, no I begged you, to leave me alone for one night!”

Derek shrugged, unaffected but Scott gave him an apologetic smile. “We needed you.”

“Indeed” Peter's voice came from behind him, sounding smooth and gentle. “Your area of expertise, Stiles.”

“What is it?” Stiles grumbled.

Derek leaned over a map of Beacon Hills, eyes tracing their territory lines. “Pixies wreaking havoc in the woods. They’re difficult to catch.”

Peter took over as he put a hand to the small of Stiles’ back, pushing him lightly towards the map.

Stiles stumbled forward, listening to Scott explaining. “Apparently they’re easy to kill, though,” he said, cringing. “We need you to throw some mountain ash at them. Keep them stationary while we pick them off.”

“You see?” Peter asked lowly, leaning closely into Stiles. “It had to be you.”

Stiles flushed with pleasure, realizing once again that being needed was his jam. He loved being a full part of the pack, no one questioning if he should be there. But sometimes, like tonight, he wanted to get something back, something for himself.

With a sigh, he dragged a hand through his hair and watched Derek’s finger indicating the infected areas.

“Fine. I have some backup ash in the jeep. Let’s get this done so I can go home and get laid. By myself. Which apparently doesn't count where virginity is concerned. No matter how big a toy I-” 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” Scott shouted and clamped a hand over his best friend’s mouth while he dragged him outside.

Derek rolled his eyes and looked at his uncle. 

“Hm,” Peter said under his breath, with a thoughtful expression on his face. Derek grimaced. “I don't want to know,” he bit out and went after the boys.

Peter laughed and followed.

\--

2.

Stiles looked at himself in the full body mirror on the inside of his closet door. Pretty good for an eighteen year old virgin, he thought to himself as he smoothed down the black button-up and squeezed into his skinny jeans.

He turned and was about to put on his shoes when he heard a slight knock on his window. Crossing his arms he glared at the werewolf sliding into his room. 

“Hello, Stiles,” Peter said conversationally.

“No,” Stiles said firmly, as Peter walked closer.

Peter reached up and straightened his collar with a mumbled, “Looking good.”

“No,” Stiles said even harsher and tried to slap Peters hands away.

“You remember the body your father found on his patrol this morning?”

“No!”

“Derek and I finally got the opportunity to get a look and a whiff at it. There’s definitely something fishy about it. Maybe even literally.”

“No! No! No!” Stiles shouted and started to pound his fists against Peter's hard chest. 

Peter smiled, amused, and caught Stiles hands, holding them against himself. Stiles sighed and let his head drop against him. He would never admit it but Peter’s chest was a comfortable place to lean against. He still sighed again, though. For emphasis.

“Shh,” Peter said, amused. “You’re a pretty boy. Your time will come.”

Stiles snorted and looked back up. “Yeah. If I live that long.”

There was a sudden flash of emotion on Peter’s face, making it hard and wild. It was gone almost too fast for Stiles to register it and Peter’s face was smooth and cocky once again. With a playful smirk he replied, “I promise to keep you alive long enough for you to get some.”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll hold you to it. At least you know how to raise the dead if all else fails. Hmm, zombie sex...” 

Stiles’ mind drifted off on the thought, trying to debate if gross or just intriguing enough, when Peter snapped him out of it. 

“Call your date to cancel?”

“Oh, right!” Stiles shook his head to clear it and fumbled his phone out of his tight jeans.

While he listened to Stiles talk, Peter powered up the laptop with the bestiary and started flipping through the iPad he had brought with him. After a few minutes he looked up when he heard clothes rustle.

“I thought I had made it clear that we don't have time for this,” he said with a leer.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles huffed, trying to wiggle out of the skinny jeans. “I’m not going to do research in these clothes that I only put on so someone else could take them off.”

Peter stood with a dramatic sigh and walked over. His nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons and he slid Stiles’ shirt off of his shoulders a moment later. After primly putting it on a hanger, he came back, pushing Stiles to lie down on his bed. The jeans were so tight, Peter wondered how Stiles had gotten them on but eventually he managed to squeeze his fingers under the fabric to get some leverage. With a lot of tugging and pulling they eventually got off and Peter put them on another hanger even though he doubted Stiles ever used them for pants.

“Um,” Stiles began but had to stop when he felt Peter’s gaze drop to his boxer briefs. They had been already tight (necessary with skinny jeans) but now they were almost bursting with Stiles’ erection.

Stiles reached out to fumble them off but let out a yelp when Peter was faster.

“Another time,” the werewolf promised and had the briefs off and Stiles sweatpants back on before the teenager could even try to form a reply. 

He tried to push down his hope and other emotions. Surely Peter didn’t really mean it, despite his leering and compliments. Stiles couldn't afford to believe it or he would have to face some unpleasant things. Like how he was completely obsessed with Peter’s everything but especially his cocky smile, his thick neck and of course the razor sharp wit and not to forget is evil supervillain mind. 

Or face other things, like explaining to his dad how he had a crush on a serial killer. He doubted the sheriff would let it count that Peter claimed to be reformed.  
Shaking of his thoughts, Stiles let Peter put on his favourite shirt and then flopped around onto his belly. He had to stifle a moan when his hard-on pushed against the mattress, his body unconsciously moving to rub one out. 

“Stiles,” Peter said firmly but apologetic, a hand on his lower back stilling him. The laptop was shoved in front of Stiles’ face and Peter said, “Focus,” before be sat down next to him on the bed.

Yeah, it would be a very long night. And not in a good way.

\--

3.

Stiles’ head hit the wall behind him with a thunk. It would have hurt if he hadn’t been in such a haze. His skin was hot and tight and he felt like he was going crazy. The lips on his throat sucked bruises into him and a hand opened his jeans. They weren't as tight as his get-laid-pants because tonight it had been only about dancing and hanging out with the pack at Jungle to celebrate Lydia’s birthday. Even Peter had been allowed to stay after the banshee had opened his present - a voucher for a shopping trip to Paris.

Stiles had danced with everyone in the pack, trying not to die of sexual frustration when they ground against each other. It had been especially difficult when Peter’s broad hands had slipped around his waist from behind, moving Stiles’ hips to the beat.

After drinking a lot of flowery juice cocktails however - Derek didn't condone underage drinking, even for the werewolves - Stiles had to excuse himself to the restroom.He quickly relieved himself and grimaced at his sweaty and blotchy face in the mirror. Why did he always have to get so flushed when he exerted himself?

On his way back, he was suddenly grabbed and pressed against the wall. Stiles was about to start struggling, when he got a good look at his attacker, a gorgeous young man with a blinding smile. There were hot hands on his skin and he felt even more heated. Blinking he tried to remember why he had wanted to get away and found himself smiling back instead, ready to go with the program. Satisfied, the guy dragged him outside the back exit just to press him against another wall.

“Taste so good.” Stiles heard the voice saying as his skin started to burn lightly. The hand in his pants started to grope him over his briefs and Stiles let out a deep moan, bucking into it. He felt so good in his haze but he had trouble keeping his eyes open. Why was he suddenly so freaking tired? He tried to take a deep, refreshing breath but a tongue slipped between his lips, constricting him. It seemed as the guy was sucking his breath out of him. There was a slight panic in the back of his mind but his body bucked and rubbed himself against the man, very close to coming.

Suddenly there was a woosh and Stiles was cold, the man gone. He whined, trying to reach out and get the heat back while he struggled to open his eyes.

“Only you, Stiles.” He heard a voice saying.

“Scotty?” Stiles was mumbling, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His breathing was laboured and he palmed his hard-on, desperate to come. But his hand was too weak and shaky to rub one out and his knees were giving out as well. 

Before he could crumble to the floor there were strong, warm arms around him, holding him up.

“You’re okay,” the voice said, sounding equally reassuring and relieved. 

“Peter…” Stiles began but there was a screeching noise behind them, making him turn his head. “Wha?”

Peter gently turned his face back to him, caressing his cheek.

“Shh, don’t look. Just an incubus trying to suck the life out of you,” he said, sounding strained.

Stiles blinked and managed to focus on Peter’s gaze, feeling like he was sinking into his deep blue eyes.

“Peter,” he whispered, desperately. If he hadn’t been so dazed he would’ve been embarrassed over how reverend and desperate he sounded. Instead he tried to rub himself against the man. “Peter. I need…” His breath hitched and his hands scrambled over Peter’s body to find purchase.

Peter leaned into him, stubble rubbing over the skin of his neck. “Let me help you,” he whispered and a hot hand pushed into his boxers, cupping his erection. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”

Stiles sobbed in relief and pushed against the hand, his hips bucking back and forth.  
After a few moments Peter wrapped his hands around Stiles cock and squeezed firmly before he let his thumb brush over the head. Stiles screamed from the intense feeling and his body shook as he came hard over Peter’s hand.

His body slumped even more in exhaustion, lying completely against Peter now. He thought in the corner of his eyes that he was seeing Peter licking his hand clean but surely not, right?

Stiles panted like he had run a marathon, his legs trembling unsteady. He felt Peter’s hand slip between them, zipping Stiles back up. 

“Let’s get you home,” the werewolf said lowly and brushed a kiss against Stiles’ temple. 

\--

4.

“Oh, my god. I can't believe we’re doing this,” Stiles said nervously and pulled his shirt off, hands shaking.

“Get on with it, Stilinski. I’m this close to changing my mind.” 

He jumped and scrambled onto the bed, scooting between Lydia’s legs. His hands were trailing over the creamy white skin of her thighs, exactly like had always imagined. He smiled up at her wryly. 

“I know this is just a pity fuck for you but thanks. Really. I feel like… I’ve been going crazy lately with this need to just be close to someone like this. Especially someone I can trust. I’m really glad it’s not going to be some stranger after all who takes my virg-” Stiles stopped, interrupted by Lydia's ring tone.

She frowned and reached out for the phone.

“No, Lyds. What are you doing?” he said, panicky. She help up a finger and then gently petted his head.

“Peter?” Her voice was sharp and demanding.

Stiles couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, his face pressed into Lydia's stomach. 

When he heard her tone shift to interested, he groaned, giving up all hope. “Yes, of course I know Paco Romero. He’s the hippest new designer at this year's fashion weeks.”

Another pause, Peter talking.

“Yes, of course I'd like to go to Los Angeles to meet him. Stiles, get off me.”

She paused again while Stiles rolled on his back, sighing dramatically to hide his hurt.

“Yes, Stiles is with me. Why?” Lydia asked, her voice suddenly sweet and innocent. Finally she laughed and hung up.

With quick motions she pulled the rest of her clothes off and ordered Stiles to leave. 

“You’re going to LA with Peter?” he asked quietly, not even in the mood to take in her curves.

“Don’t be silly. He has two tickets reserved for me and my mother. We’re leaving soon and I still have to shower,” she replied absently, typing a text to her mother.

Stiles heaved himself of the bed and put his shirt back on.

“Okay, have fun.”

Lydia looked up at his depressed tone and petted his cheek. ”I’m sorry sweetie. I'll make it up to you. Okay?”

“Sure.” Stiles said but somehow the whole undertaking had lost its appeal.

He left and got into his jeep, not wanting to go home. His fingers drummed on the wheel and suddenly he was beyond angry. Janking the gear shift into position he started the car and pulled out, driving towards Peters place

 

“I was about to go down on her,” Stiles shouted as he stormed past Peter into the apartment.

“Well,” Peter replied calmy. “You can go down on me if you like.”

Stiles knew it was just a joke but he was so enraged and wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off of Peter's face. So he stepped closer, glaring hard, before he dropped to his knees.  
He grit his teeth because his hands were shaking as he reached out to pull Peters zipper open. 

“Stiles, you don’t have to…” Peter said slowly, trailing off when Stiles janked his jeans down.

“Shut up!” Stiles ground out. “Just shut up for once.”

If Stiles weren't just pushing Peter’s boxer briefs down to reveal the were’s cock he would’ve laughed at his own hypocrisy. But as it was, he just stared, mouth going dry.

Peter was beautiful. There was just no other word. Of course the perfect looking wolf had a perfect cock. It wasn't fair. Or maybe it was, seeing as Stiles benefitted from it now.  
It was thick, hanging straight down, already chubbing up. The head was enclosed by just the perfect amount of foreskin and the scent was mouthwatering, now that he was so closed.

Carefully Stiles closed one hand around it, feeling it harden further by the pressure. Then he decided to not waste anymore time and took it into his mouth stuffing in as much as would go. Naturally, he choked a little.

“Careful, pet,” Peter said softly and carded a hand through Stiles’ hair.

Stiles leaned into the touch but didn’t heed the advice. Instead he sucked eagerly, moving back and forth, making himself choke every time. Peter was so thick in his mouth, so hot and hard, it was pure bliss for Stiles’ oral fixation. 

Completely lost in the motions, Stiles kept moving his head, exploring Peter with his tongue and lips. Saliva was running down his chin since he was too busy to swallow properly but he hardly noticed.

Above him, Peter groaned and hissed softly and Stiles soaked up every little sound. Eventually he felt Peter’ grip tighten and with a small grunt, Peter spilled into his mouth.

Stiles tried to swallow but it only made him cough. Suddenly the cock was gone and he was pulled up and held straight.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, and lightly cupped the back of Stiles’ neck. “I should’ve warned you.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles replied and shrugged after he had stopped coughing. He looked into Peter’s bright blue eyes and felt the panic coming on.

Peter didn’t seem to notice yet, too busy, staring at Stiles. He reached out and used his thumb to swipe some come and saliva from the corner of Stiles’ mouth. “I’d be happy to return the-”

But Stiles didn’t let him finish. Instead he turned around and fled. He wasn’t even sure why but it just felt too much. Too real. 

Of course at home he already regretted it. He flopped down onto his bed and banged his head against his pillow. Then he spent the next thirty minutes to ask himself what was wrong with him while furiously jerking off. Twice.

\--

5.

Stiles stared at the menu, unable to concentrate.

The movie had been okay but he had seen it with the pack last week already. Of course he shouldn't mention that to his date, a guy from his history class, who had been delighted to find a movie to Stiles’ liking. 

And now there were even sitting in one of Stiles’ favorite restaurants. But the conversation was slow going and Stiles had been distracted all evening. Because even though he definitely planned to get freaky with this guy tonight, he couldn't stop thinking about Peter.

Peter’s cock in his mouth. Peter’s fingers in his hair. Peter’s voice in his ear. Peter’s little moan when he came. Peter’s cocky smirk when…

Stiles’ date cleared his throat and he jumped, looking up guiltily.

“Sorry, uh do you know what you’re getting?” 

His date was about to reply when Stiles’ phone rang. He scrambled to take it out, recognizing Peter's special ringtone - the Imperial March.

“Yes,” he said almost breathlessly.

“Stiles.” Peter's voice sounded odd, slightly strangled. 

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I know you’re on a date but… I need you. Your help.” 

Stiles heard Peter clear his throat and quickly replied, “What do you need?”

“I’ll send you my coordinates. I’m kind of… stuck.”

“Stuck,” Stiles echoed, catching a glimpse of his date’s angry face.

“I’ll explain when you get here,” Peter replied briskly and hung up.

Stiles shook his head at the phone and pocketed it before looking at his date. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Whatever, Stiles. I guess I have to see you at school but thank god it’s only one month until graduation.”

With a shrug, Stiles got up and grabbed his jacket, hurrying outside.

He didn't want to admit it to himself but he was worried about Peter, what with the odd phone call and all, so he didn't really care about his date right now. Of course there was a tiny part of him that mourned the opportunity to finally get fucked tonight but - and he would also never admit that - he would gladly give tonight up if it helped Peter be safe.

When Stiles arrived at the destination he jumped out of the jeep and ran up to a little hunting cabin. He stopped to look around and then jumped in surprise when Peters muffled voice called out from inside. Quickly Stiles stepped to the door waving the ring of mounting ash open that had surrounded the small building.

The first thing he saw was Peter’s face, almost completely covered in blood.

“Oh, shit,” he shouted and hurried over to the werewolf. “What happened?”

“Hunter,” Peter gestured nonchalantly to something lying crumbled in the corner. “Ripped his throat out before I realized he had put up a barrier.”

With that he stood up and grabbed the body. “Gonna get rid of this,” he said and gave Stiles a toothy grin.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles sat down and waited. He wouldn't mind helping but Peter would be back so much faster without him.

And really, after a short time Peter came back. He had washed his face and hands somewhere but the shirt was still bloody, so Stiles got up and opened the back of the jeep. 

“Here,” he said and held out a spare shirt for Peter. The werewolf swiftly pulled off his own and switched. 

“Sorry about your date.”

Hearing the flat tone, Stiles peered into Peter’s face but it was unreadable.

“It’s not a big loss. I had my doubts about him anyway. So, somehow I have built up this whole first time thing way too much. It will never be as perfect as people say it’s supposed to be.”

“If you want a perfect deflowering you should endeavour to get it.”

Stiles snorted, grinning wide. “A what and do what? Nah, I think it’s too late. By this point anything will be a disappointment.”

Peter gave him a smirk. “You could hire a professional.”

“Oh, wow. That’s not pathetic at all. Besides, I couldn’t afford it.”

“You could get a job,” Peter teased.

“I already have a job. Several actually. Student, pack researcher, health nanny for my dad.”

“Well, then you should ask them to pay for it.”

“Yeah, right.” And maybe he should, but they both knew Stiles wouldn’t.

“I do owe you, though,” Peter added as an afterthought.

Shaking his head, Stiles replied, “No, you don’t. You saved my ass enough times by now.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Peter stepped closer and Stiles could see just how much Peter’s muscles bunched under Stiles’ too-small shirt.

“What did you mean?” Stiles asked, unconsciously licking his lips.

“The other night you left without letting me return the favour.”

Stiles felt himself blush furiously and his whole body heating up. “Oh, that. Uhm you can consider us even.”

“Not a chance,”Peter said firmly and then gently pushed Stiles towards the jeep. “My place. Now.”

“Oh, my god,” Stiles mumbled, his hands shaking when he turned the ignition. He looked over to Peter on the passenger seat and fervently hoped that he wasn’t about to drive them off the road.

He drove to Peter’s apartment on autopilot, remembering the blowjob and wondering if receiving would be just as good.

Inside, Peter didn’t lose any time. He pushed Stiles onto the couch, making quick work of his clothes. Then, just like Stiles the other night, he swallowed him down to the root. Only Peter didn’t choke. Instead he let Stiles buck into him, hitting his throat, taking it without a problem.

A few moments later, Peter really went to town. He sucked and licked, used tongue, lips and even teeth. His clever fingers massaged Stiles’ balls and perineum. 

Stiles didn’t stand a chance. After just a few minutes of being worked over, he spilled into Peter’s mouth, shuddering through his orgasm.

“That was quick,” he panted, embarrassed. “But so awesome!”

“Well, I certainly hope so. I used to do this for a living after all,” Peter replied smugly, as he licked his lips.

Stiles mind blanked and he stared at Peter dumbly.

“You what? With the what?”

Peter grinned and stretched out on the couch. “I used to be a hooker.”

“A hooker,” Stiles repeated, convinced Peter was joking.

“Hooker. Callboy. Prostitute. Or as most of my clients prefered, high class escort.”

Stiles shook his head, realizing his mouth was hanging open. “But why? You’re loaded.”

Peter grimaced and at his next words Stiles knew why. “I loved my pack, my family. I would've done anything for them and I did, as you might remember.”

Stiles decided not to bring up Laura.

“But some of them, especially Talia, didn't approve of my life style. She thought cutting me off from the money pot would make me easier to handle. But I just began to make my lifestyle my living.”

“Which was fucking.”

Peter gave him a cocky grin and shrugged. “More precisely, looking fantastic, being a great conversationalist with a charming sense of humour, being a spectacular liar, loving to dress smartly and going out to high class parties and restaurants. And of course yes, having mind blowing sex with attractive people. Only now I was getting paid for all of it.”

“Wow.” Stiles mumbled, “just wow.”

“Did you fuck all your clients?” Stiles asked after a while, watching Peter turn his head to him and smile lazily.

“Hm, no. Only about half.”

“Oh,” Stiles said surprised. He had no idea how someone would pass that up.

As if Peter had heard his thoughts, he said, “Quite a lot of my clients were singles and just needed a pretend-date or wanted to have a good night out without having to deal with advances. And some were just not attracted to my gender but needed my expertise at certain events. Purely business.”

“What kind of expertise?” Stiles asked before he could stop himself.

“Anything. Music, art, literature, mythology, financials, cuisine.”

Peter grinned as Stiles gaped at him. 

“How do you know so much about… stuff?”

Peter shrugged and widened his grin, though Stiles thought it looked a bit forced.

“You might imagine that I don’t make friends easily. And I was the only one in my age group in my pack. And even with those closest to my age I didn't get along so well. Running around the woods by oneself gets old quite quickly.”

“Hm,” Stiles said and pictured Peter doing just that. He smiled and leaned against Peter’s shoulder before he yawned. 

“I should probably go or I’ll be too tired to drive.”

“You can stay if you don't mind me getting up early for an appointment.”

“Oh, cool,” Stiles replied and immediately drifted off.

He didn't see Peters fond smile nor did he feel himself being rearranged on the couch and bundled up with a blanket.

\--

+1

Prom. Stiles couldn’t believe that he made it. Not only to prom but also through it. A whole, undisturbed night.

Now the whole pack was having an after-party in a double suite at Beacon Hills’ five-star hotel, courtesy of Derek and Peter, who were celebrating with them. 

After gorging himself on the buffet, Stiles was happily lounging on one of the sofas. He was so engrossed in watching everyone that he didn’t see Peter coming up to him until he stood in Stiles’ direct line of sight. Looking up, Stiles gave the werewolf a soft grin. 

“You seem to enjoy your prom night,” Peter stated but had one eyebrow raise in question.

Stiles nodded eagerly. “Yep, it’s pretty great. I didn’t even mind going stag since everybody took turns dancing with me.”

“Well, in that case you might not even want your surprise,” Peter teased.

Stiles sat up immediately, making grabby hands. “Of course I want a surprise. What is it?” he asked.

Peter had both eyebrows raised now. “It’s. A. Surprise,” he said slowly.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Stiles stood up and grinned. “Fine. Where is it?”

“Follow me,” Peter said simply and turned away.

They walked out of the suit into the hotel hallway. Stiles was about to start with a round of questions but then Peter led him down the hall to a suite at the opposite end. 

“Surprise,” he said and swiped the key card before pushing the door open. 

Stiles stepped inside and looked around. It was only a single suite but looked even more lush than the one they came from.

“You… got me my own room?” he asked, sounding confused. 

“It’s a farewell present,” Peter said cryptically. 

“Aww, you didn’t have to get me anything. Stanford is barely an hour away anyhow. But no offence, I’m not sure why you thought I would want my own room.”

Peter grinned at him smugly. “It’s actually a present from you to me. And I didn’t think you would want to hand it over in front of the rest of the pack. The walls should be thick enough in between to give us some privacy?” 

“Privacy,” Stiles repeated, frowning. “I don’t under-”

Gently grabbing Stiles’ chin Peter interrupted him by pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Stiles,” he said, exasperated, “would you do me the honor of gifting me your virginity?”

Stiles’ mouth flapped open and stayed that way for a few moments while his cheeks heated up. “You mean uhm-”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Stiles’ reply was quick, if a little squeaky. Peter laughed and ran his fingers up into Stiles’ hair before kissing him properly.

Moaning, Stiles returned the kiss feverishly while his hands fumbled his clothes off. After finally managing to get his jacket and shirt off, he reached for his belt. But Peter grabbed him and in the next moment Stiles was lying on his back on the bed, Peter kneeling between his legs.

“Oh, my god,” he gasped, laughing. “You’re such a brute.”

“Tell me you mind,” Peter said and snorted. Then he made quick work of Stiles’ remaining clothes. When he finally had Stiles naked, he immediately took him in his mouth, earning a shout.

Stiles just tangled his hands in Peter’s hair and panted. Peter seemed to be using every trick in his book because Stiles was ready to shoot in moments. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked and tried to shove Peter away. “I don’t wanna come like this. I wanna fuck.”

But Peter firmly held his thighs down, making Stiles unable to move away. 

“Peter,” Stiles cried out, sounding more and more desperate. The werewolf just gave him a quick grin and then sucked him down even harder than before, making Stiles shout hoarsely and spilling into his mouth.

Peter smiled smugly and pulled Stiles down to him, pressing their lips together.  
“Oh, yuck,” Stiles said but opened his mouth eagerly enough, letting Peter lick inside.

After a long, intense kiss they parted and Stiles mumbled, “Fuck now?”

Peter laughed and gently turned Stiles around onto his belly. “Patience, grasshopper.” 

With a snort, Siles bedded his head on his folded arms and closed his eyes. Then he let out a long moan when Peter began to massage his calves.

“Oh, wow. This feels amazing.”

“Of course it does,” Peter replied proudly. “People used to pay extra for this.”

Stiles was about to make a joke but then he felt Peter draining tension from the muscles on his back that he hadn’t even noticed hurting.

“Oh, god. This is so good. Better than sex maybe.”

Peter laughed quietly and began to leave wet, little kisses on Stiles’ back. His hands roamed over mole-dotted skin before settling on Stiles’ ass, fingers digging hard into the muscles.

“Oh, shit, shit,” Stiles cried out and arched his back. Then he suddenly yelped when Peter spread his cheeks and dragged his tongue teasingly around Stiles’ little pucker. He wriggled his butt and complained, “That tickles.”

With a snort, Peter dragged his tongue flat against Stiles’ entrance, getting it wet, before he started to press inside a little. Then he kept fucking his tongue into Stiles in rocking motions, loosening the muscle more and more. It didn't take long until Stiles began to like it and eagerly pushed back into the motions.

“I didn’t think it would be like that,” Stiles panted, his hole clenching. Then he heard the cap of a bottle snap open and braced himself against the cold lube, having learned from his own experiences when he couldn’t get his fingers or toys inside him fast enough. 

Instead the lube felt pleasantly warm and Stiles assumed Peter must’ve warmed it up somehow, sneaky bastard.

Peter pushed one finger inside and Stiles appreciated the way it just slipped into his spit-slick hole. It made him feel loose and wanton and he raised his hips a little to urge Peter on.

With a quiet laugh, Peter spread the lube around before he came back with two fingers, carefully watching Stiles’ limits.

But Stiles was more than eager, pushing against Peter’s fingers and into the stretch.

After what felt like an eternity, Peter finally turned him around, holding up a condom. “Do you want me to use this?” Peter asked.

Stiles shrugged, blushing. Was it stupid to think it would feel more real without a condom? Yeah, probably. But still… “You’re clean, right?”

“Werewolf, remember?”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles reached up out to pull Peter down. “Do it without.”

Peter nodded and slicked up his cock. Then he leaned closer and pushed against Stiles’ rim.

How it was so different to his toys, Stiles had no idea. All he knew was that it felt fuller and more intense than ever before. He could barely breathe when Peter slowly slid inside until he couldn’t go further.

“Taking me so well, Stiles, ” Peter growled and gave an experimental thrust.

Stiles let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a shout. It felt amazing, almost overwhelmingly so. 

“Okay?” Peter whispered, staring at him intently.

“Yeah, I’m good. Come on,” Stiles said, nodding eagerly. 

And Peter did. Starting with long, slow slides, over to deep, strong thrusts, he began to finally snap his hips fast and hard, urged on by Stiles, moaning and whimpering. 

Arms thrown around Peter’s neck, Stiles clung to him at the fast pace. Then suddenly Peter pushed one hand under Stiles’ ass, the tilt making him slide even deeper. Stiles made a strangled noise and then again when Peter kept hitting his prostate at every thrust.

The feeling of Peter’s strength and precision was amazing and if Stiles had any bodily function left, he would have applauded. Instead Peter just manhandled him however he liked. The pace grew even faster and Stiles felt he was going out of his mind. Just when he was sure he couldn’t take it anymore, Peter straightened up a bit, pulling Stiles half onto his lap, still holding his ass. 

He kept fucking into him deeply and curled his other hand around Stiles’ cock. The delicious touch made Stiles come, crying out in surprise. Spilling over Peter’s fingers, he was writhing on his lap, bucking into the prolonged thrusts.

After a few moments, Stiles’ eyes widened when he saw Peter lifting his soiled hand to his mouth. The wolf’s eyes glowed blue as he licked Stiles’ come off of his fingers, while grinding into him harshly. Then he gave a low shout and pushed deep into Stiles, coming hard. 

Stiles wrapped his arms tightly around him. He felt Peter’s cock twitching and spilling inside of him and his hard body pressed tightly against Stiles’ own.

Eventually Peter seemed to recover. He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ mouth. Then he trailed more of them over Stiles’ neck, licking at his moles. His tongue travelled lower and lower, licking everywhere. Until he was kneeling between Stiles’ spread legs. 

Looking up, Peter grinned at Stiles, trailing his fingertips on the inside of Stiles’ thighs.

“Again?” Peter asked and pushed two fingers into Stiles’ hole, easily guided by the come.

Stiles arched his back and hissed. “What? What do you mean ‘again’?”

Peter chuckled and pushed deeper before he pinpointed Stiles’ prostate and pressed the tips of his fingers against it.

Shouting, Stiles gripped the sheets tight, slightly overwhelmed. But his still-half-hard cock twitched back to life and slowly filled back up again. It was such an intense feeling that he didn’t know what to do with himself. He squirmed, almost thrashing around but Peter held him steady. 

“Are you going to come for me again, Stiles?” Peter asked him sternly and he could only nod, words failing him. 

It didn’t take very long for Stiles to get close, Peter massaging him expertly, but there was a tiny spark missing to send him over the edge. The longer he was held there, the more he felt like he was floating and soon he began to beg. “Please Peter, please make me come. I need to come so bad.”

And the begging and whining seemed to help. While increasing the pressure on Stiles’ sweet spot, Peter leaned over him and swallowed his cock, down to the root. It was complete sensory overload and with a hoarse cry, Stiles came again, releasing a few weak spurts into Peter’s mouth.

Stiles was panting when he came back to himself. He looked up at Peter who had a very smug and pleased expression on his face. 

“Do you want to go again, too?” Stiles asked and Peter’s gaze softened.

“I’m fine,” he replied before adding, “I can wait.”

Shaking his head, Stiles tried to lift himself up to touch Peter but his body was limp and exhausted. “You don’ hav’ to wait. I can uhm… or you can-”

“It’s fine, Stiles. I prefer my partners awake,” Peter said and gently pushed him back down before running a hand through Stiles’ sweaty hair.

Then Stiles felt him get up and move away. He was about to call for him, somehow not feeling up to being alone but Peter was already back. Before Stiles could say anything, Peter started to run a warm, wet cloth over Stiles’ skin, making him moan in pleasure. He closed his eyes, thinking about saying thank you but then he lost himself in Peter taking care of him and fell asleep.

\--

+2

The next time Stiles opened his eyes, the sunlight was shining through the curtains and someone was sucking his dick. It took him a second to remember the last night and who exactly was going down on him.

“Peter! Oh, shit,” he cried out and wanted to get up but Peter held him down with a hand on his stomach. At the same time he sucked harder and Stiles grabbed his hair. “Oh, shit. You’re so fucking good at this.”

Peter hummed in agreement and swirled his tongue in a particular way that made Stiles toes curl. Then he came up for air and moved along Stiles’ body, cupping his face before kissing him. It was a thorough and very satisfying kiss.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Peter said teasingly, as he pulled away. The tone made Stiles blush but he somehow felt cherished as well. 

“That’s… a really good way to wake up.” Stiles grinned and pulled Peter into another kiss. This one took even longer and got filthy quickly, but eventually Peter pulled back again. 

“There are still a few first times for you left. I figured we could cross another one of your list if you want,” Peter said, watching Stiles intently.

“What do you mean exactly?” Stiles asked, brows furrowed. 

Peter scooted up until he was kneeling over Stiles, hovering over his lap.

“This,” he said and took Stiles’ hand, guiding it between his own legs. Still frowning, Stiles reached out and felt the wet slide of lube on his finger tips. His eyes widened and he looked up at Peter. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles gasped and pressed one finger against Peter’s rim, slipping inside. 

Peter pressed down, taking Stiles’ finger to the hilt. “Do you want to fuck me, Stiles?” 

“Oh, fuck. Fuck! Yes! Of course. Oh, god, this feels so good. I’m gonna come before I’m even inside you,” Stiles babbled and added a finger.

“Then get to it,” Peter said, laughing. 

Nodding eagerly, Stiles spread the lube a little before he took his fingers out and got more of it on his cock. Then he held his cock up invitingly, waggling his eyebrows. Peter looked at him flatly and lowered himself down in one go. 

Stiles let out a shout, his eyes rolling back into his head. With a wicked grin, Peter immediately set a fast pace, not giving Stiles time recover. His hips moved up and down and Stiles dug his fingers into Peter’s thick thighs and held on for dear life. He was still a little dizzy from waking up to getting blown and everything felt so intense. The push and pull of Peter’s muscles, the grinding and the squeezing around him. 

It didn’t take long for Stiles to get close and Peter seemed to sense it. He leaned over Stiles and whispered to him, “Come on, Stiles. Fuck me.” Then he kissed Stiles hard.

Encouraged, Stiles grabbed Peter’s ass and squeezed before he started to fuck up into him. Quick, rapid thrusts, while hoping he would hit Peter’s prostate at some point. It seemed to do the trick because Peter groaned and took his own cock in his hand, stroking it almost violent.

Just as Stiles didn’t think he could hold on any longer, Peter rocked back into him and then spilled all over Stiles’ chest. The hotness of that moment and Peter’s hole clenching around him was all that it took and with only a few more short thrusts, Stiles came himself. They kept rocking together, riding out their orgasms before Peter curled his arms around Stiles and pulled them on their sides.

Stiles felt himself slip out and stretched out with a groan. Then he looked up and smiled softly at Peter.

“I'm really glad that I've waited for this."

Peter smile back at him in return. “So am I.”

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://lostwithoutmyanchor.tumblr.com/)


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